Is tender pity then of no avail?

Are intercessions of the fervent tongue A waste of hope?-From this sad source have sprung

Kites that console the Spirit, under grief Which ill can brook more rational relief: Hence, prayers are shaped amiss, and dirges sung

For Souls whose doom is fixed! The way is smooth

For Power that travels with the human heart :
Confession ministers the pang to soothe
In him who at the ghost of guilt doth start.
Ye holy Men, so earnest in your care,
Of your own mighty instruments beware!

XXI. SECLUSION.

Of a long life; and, in the hour of death, The last dear service of thy passing breath! *

XXIV.

SAXON MONASTERIES, AND LIGHTS AND SHADES
OF THE RELIGION.

By such examples moved to unbought pains,
The people work like congregated bees;
Eager to build the quiet Fortresses
Where Piety, as they believe, obtains
From Heaven a general blessing; timely rains
Or needful sunshine; prosperous enterprise,
Justice and peace:-bold faith! yet also rise
The sacred Structures for less doubtful gains.
The Sensual think with reverence of the palms
Which the chaste Votaries seek, beyond the
grave;

If penance be redeemable, thence alms

side

A bead-roll, in his hand a clasped book,
Or staff more harmless than a shepherd's crook,
The war-worn Chieftain quits the world-to hide
His thin autumnal locks where Monks abide
In cloistered privacy. But not to dwell
In soft repose he comes. Within his cell,
Round the decaying trunk of human pride,
At morn, and eve, and midnight's silent hour,
Do penitential cogitations cling;
Like ivy, round some ancient elm, they twine
In grisly folds and strictures serpentine;
Yet, while they strangle, a fair growth they
bring,

For recompence-their own perennial bower.

XXII. CONTINUED.

METHINKS that to some vacant hermitage
My feet would rather turn- to some dry nook
Scooped out of living rock, and near a brook
Hurled down a mountain-cove from stage to
stage,

Yet tempering, for my sight, its bustling rage
In the soft heaven of a translucent pool;
Thence creeping under sylvan arches cool,
Fit haunt of shapes whose glorious equipage
Would elevate my dreams. A beechen bowl,
A maple dish, my furniture should be;
Crisp, yellow leaves my bed; the hooting owl
My night-watch: nor should e'er the crested

fowl

From thorp or vill his matins sound for me, Tired of the world and all its industry.

XXIII. REPROOF.

BUT what if One, through grove or flowery mead,

Indulging thus at will the creeping feet
Of a voluptuous indolence, should meet
Thy hovering Shade, O venerable Bede!
The saint, the scholar, from a circle freed
Of toil stupendous, in a hallowed seat

And if full oft the Sanctuary save
Lives black with guilt, ferocity it calms.

XXV.

MISSIONS AND TRAVELS.

NOT sedentary all: there are who roam
To scatter seeds of life on barbarous shores;
Or quit with zealous step their knee-worn floors
To seek the general mart of Christendom;
Whence they, like richly-laden merchants, come
To their beloved cells :-or shall we say
That, like the Red-cross Knight, they urge
their way,

To lead in memorable triumph home
Truth, their immortal Una? Babylon,
Learned and wise, hath perished utterly,
Nor leaves her Speech one word to aid the sigh
That would lament her;-Memphis, Tyre, are

BEHOLD a pupil of the monkish gown,
The pious ALFRED, King to Justice dear!
Lord of the harp and liberating spear;
Mirror of Princes! Indigent Renown
Might range the starry ether for a crown
Equal to his deserts, who, like the year,
Pours forth his bounty, like the day doth cheer,
And awes like night with mercy-tempered frown,
Ease from this noble miser of his time

No moment steals; pain narrows not his cares.
Though small his kingdom as a spark or gem,
Of Alfred boasts remote Jerusalem,

And Christian India, through her wide-spread clime,

In sacred converse gifts with Alfred shares.

XXVII.

HIS DESCENDANTS.

WHEN thy great soul was freed from mortal chains,

Darling of England! many a bitter shower

On a wild coast, rough monitors to feed
Perpetual industry. Sublime Recluse!

The recreant soul, that dares to shun the debt
Imposed on human kind, must first forget
Thy diligence, thy unrelaxing use

Flowed in thy line through undegenerate veins. The Race of Alfred covet glorious pains

*He expired dictating the last words of a translation of St John's Gospel.

254

INFLUENCE ABUSED. URGED by Ambition, who with subtlest skill Changes her means, the Enthusiast as a dupe Shall soar, and as a hypocrite can stoop, And turn the instruments of good to ill, Moulding the credulous people to his will. Such DUNSTAN:-from its Benedictine coop Issues the master Mind, at whose fell swoop The chaste affections tremble to fulfil Their purposes. Behold, pre-signified,

Hark! 'tis the tolling Curfew!-the stars shine;
But of the lights that cherish household cares
And festive gladness, burns not one that dares
To twinkle after that dull stroke of thine,
Emblem and instrument, from Thames to Tyne,
Of force that daunts, and cunning that ensnares!
Yet as the terrors of the lordly bell,
That quench, from hut to palace, lamps and fires,
Touch not the tapers of the sacred quires ;
Even so a thraldom, studious to expel
Old laws, and ancient customs to derange,
To Creed or Ritual brings no fatal change.

XXXII.

COLDLY we spake. The Saxons, overpowered
By wrong triumphant through its own excess,
From fields laid waste, from house and home
devoured

By flames, look up to heaven and crave redress
From God's eternal justice. Pitiless
Though men be, there are angels that can feel

dreams,

Do in the supernatural world abide:

So vaunt a throng of Followers, filled with pride In what they see of virtues pushed to extremes, And sorceries of talent misapplied.

A PLEASANT music floats along the Mere, From Monks in Ely chanting service high, While-as Canùte the King is rowing by : "My Oarsmen," quoth the mighty King, "draw near,

That we the sweet song of the Monks may hear!"

He listens (all past conquests and all schemes
Of future vanishing like empty dreams)
Heart-touched, and haply not without a tear.
The Royal Minstrel, ere the choir is still,
While his free Barge skims the smooth flood
along,

Gives to that rapture an accordant Rhyme.
O suffering Earth! be thankful; sternest clime
And rudest age are subject to the thrill
Of heaven-descended Piety and Song.

XXXI.

THE NORMAN CONQUEST.

THE Woman-hearted Confessor prepares The evanescence of the Saxon line.

For penitent guilt, and innocent distress.
And has a Champion risen in arms to try
His Country's virtue, fought, and breathes no

As with the Stream our voyage we pursue,
The gross materials of this world present
A marvellous study of wild accident;
Uncouth proximities of old and new;
And bold transfigurations, more untrue
(As might be deemed) to disciplined intent
Than aught the sky's fantastic element,
When most fantastic, offers to the view.
Saw we not Henry scourged at Becket's shrine?
Lo! John self-stripped of his insignia :-crown,
Sceptre and mantle, sword and ring, laid down
At a proud Legate's feet! The spears that line
Baronial halls the opprobrious insult feel;
And angry Ocean roars a vain appeal.

XXXVIII.

SCENE IN VENICE.

BLACK Demons hovering o'er his mitred head, To Cæsar's Successor the Pontiff spake ; "Ere I absolve thee, stoop! that on thy neck Levelled with earth this foot of mine may tread."

Then he, who to the altar had been led,

He, who had held the Soldan at his back,
Stooped, of all glory disinherited,
And even the common dignity of man -
Amazement strikes the crowd: while many turn
Their eyes away in sorrow, others burn
With scorn, invoking a vindictive ban
From outraged Nature; but the sense of most
In abject sympathy with power is logs.

XXXIX.

PAPAL DOMINION.

UNLESS to Peter's Chair the viewless wind
Must come and ask permission when to blow,
What further empire would it have? for now
A ghostly Domination, unconfined
As that by dreaming Bards to Love assigned,
Sits there in sober truth-to raise the low,
Perplex the wise, the strong to overthrow;
Through earth and heaven to bind and to un-
bind!-

Resist the thunder quails thee! crouch-rebuff

Shall be thy recompence! from land to land
The ancient thrones of Christendom are stuff
And 'tis the Pope that wields it:—whether
For occupation of a magic wand,
Or smooth his front, our world is in his hand !
rough

claims;

check

By blind ambition, be this tribute paid.

III.

CISTERTIAN MONASTERY.

"HERE Man more purely lives, less oft doth fall,

More promptly rises, walks with stricter heed,
More safely rests, dies happier, is freed
Earlier from cleansing fires, and gains withal
A brighter crown."-On yon Cistertian wall
That confident assurance may be read;
And, to like shelter, from the world have fled
Increasing multitudes. The potent call
Doubtless shall cheat full oft the heart's desires;
Yet, while the rugged Age on pliant knee
Vows to rapt Fancy humble fealty,

A gentler life spreads round the holy spires;
Where'er they rise, the sylvan waste retires,
And aëry harvests crown the fertile lea.

IV.

DEPLORABLE his lot who tills the ground,
His whole life long tills it, with heartless toil
Cf villain-service, passing with the soil
To each new Master, like a steer or hound,
Or like a rooted tree, or stone earth-bound;
But mark how gladly, through their own do-
mains,

The Monks relax or break these iron chains; While Mercy, uttering, through their voice, a sound

Echoed in Heaven, cries out, "Ye Chiefs, abate These legalized oppressions! Man-whose name And nature God disdained not; Man-whose soul

Christ died for-cannot forfeit his high claim To live and move exempt from all controul Which fellow-feeling doth not mitigate !"

V.

MONKS AND SCHOOLME.

RECORD We too, with just and faithful
pen,
That many,
hooded Cenobites there are,
Who in their private cells have yet a care
Of public quiet; unambitious Men,
Counsellors for the world, of piercing ken;
Whose fervent exhortations from afar
Move Princes to their duty, peace or war;
And oft-times in the most forbidding den
Of solitude, with love of science strong,
How patiently the yoke of thought they bear
How subtly glide its finest threads along!
Spirits that crowd the intellectual sphere
With mazy boundaries, as the astronomer
With orb and cycle girds the starry throng.

VI.

OTHER BENEFITS.

AND, not in vain embodied to the sight,
Religion finds even in the stern retreat
Of feudal sway her own appropriate seat;
From the collegiate pomps on Windsor's height
Down to the humbler altar, which the Knight
And his Retainers of the embattled hall
Seek in domestic oratory small,
For prayer in stillness, or the chanted rite;
Then chiefly dear, when foes are planted round,
Who teach the intrepid guardians of the place-
Hourly exposed to death, with famine worn,
And suffering under many a perilous wound-
How sad would be their durance, if forlorn
Of offices dispensing heavenly grace!

VII. CONTINUED.

AND what melodious sounds at times prevail !
And, ever and anon, how bright a gleam
Pours on the surface of the turbid Stream!
What heartfelt fragrance mingles with the gale
That swells the bosom of our passing sail!
For where, but on this River's margin, blow
Those flowers of chivalry, to bind the brow
Of hardihood with wreaths that shall not fail?-
Fair Court of Edward! wonder of the world!
I see a matchless blazonry unfurled
Of wisdom, magnanimity, and love;
And meekness tempering honourable pride;
The lamb is couching by the lion's side,
And near the flame-eyed eagle sits the dove.

VIII. CRUSADERS.

FURL we the sails, and pass with tardy oars Through these bright regions, casting many a glance

Upon the dream-like issues—the romance
Of many-coloured life that Fortune pours
Round the Crusaders, till on distant shores
Their labours end; or they return to lie,
The vow performed, in cross-legged effigy,
Devoutly stretched upon their chancel floors.
Am I deceived? Or is their requiem chanted
By voices never mute when Heaven unties
Her inmost, softest, tenderest harmonies;
Requiem which Earth takes up with voice un-
daunted,

When she would tell how Brave, and Good, and Wise,

For their high guerdon not in vain have panted!

Where long and deeply hath been fixed the root
In the blest soil of gospel truth, the Tree,
(Blighted or scathed tho' many branches be,
Put forth to wither, many a hopeful shoot)
Can never cease to bear celestial fruit.
Witness the Church that oft-times, with effect
Dear to the saints, strives earnestly to eject
Her bane, her vital energies recruit.
Lamenting, do not hopelessly repine
When such good work is doomed to be undone,
The conquests lost that were so hardly won:
All promises vouchsafed by Heaven will shine
In light confirmed while years their course shall

XI. TRANSUBSTANTIATION.

ENOUGH! for see, with dim association
The tapers burn; the odorous incense feeds
A greedy flame; the pompous mass proceeds;
The Priest bestows the appointed consecration;
And, while the HOST is raised, its elevation
An awe and supernatural horror breeds;
And all the people bow their heads, like reeds
To a soft breeze, in lowly adoration.
This Valdo brooks not. On the banks of Rhone
He taught, till persecution chased him thence,
To adore the Invisible, and Him alone.
Nor are his Followers loth to seek defence,
'Mid woods and wilds, on Nature's craggy
throne,

From rites that trample upon soul and sense.

Ages ere Valdo raised his voice to preach
In Gallic ears the unadulterate Word,
Their fugitive Progenitors explored
Subalpine vales, in quest of safe retreats
Where that pure Church survives, though sum-
mer heats

Open a passage to the Romish sword,
Far as it dares to follow. Herbs self-sown,
And fruitage gathered from the chesnut wood.
Nourish the sufferers then; and mists, that brood
D'er chasms with new-fallen obstacles bestrown,
Protect them; and the eternal snow that daunts
Aliens, is God's good winter for their haunts.

XIII

PRAISED be the Rivers, from their mountain springs

Shouting to Freedom, "Plant thy banners

here!"

To harassed Piety, "Dismiss thy fear,
And in our caverns smooth thy ruffled wings!"
Nor be unthanked their final lingerings-
Silent, but not to high-souled Passion's ear-
'Mid reedy fens wide-spread and marshes drear,
Their own creation. Such glad welcomings
As Po was heard to give where Venice rose
Hailed from aloft those Heirs of truth divine

Who near his fountains sought obscure repose,
Yet came prepared as glorious lights to shine,
Should that be needed for their sacred Charge;
Blest Prisoners They, whose spirits were at
large!

XIV.

WALDENSES.

THOSE had given earliest notice, as the lark
Springs from the ground the morn to gratulate;
Or rather rose the day to antedate,
By striking out a solitary spark,

When all the world with midnight gloom was dark.

Then followed the Waldensian bands, whom
Hate

In vain endeavours to exterminate,
Whom Obloquy pursues with hideous bark:
But they desist not ;-and the sacred fire,